


Sorry

by JustLyra



Category: MotoGP RPF, Motorcycling RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 19:16:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14267778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustLyra/pseuds/JustLyra
Summary: There's only one person who can comfort Marc through the shitstorm...





	Sorry

**Author's Note:**

> I figured I'm already on the bus to hell, so I might as well go with the idea that was formed by the photo of Alex wearing his glasses...

Walking through the hotel lobby, heading for the lift after making their way through the fan and media scrum outside, Alex glanced right, taking in Marc’s hunched shoulders and tensed jaw, “I’ll take it from here.”

“But, I…”

Turning to Emilio, the hotel well enough away from the track, and the fracas, for him to take some charge, Alex smiled politely, “I’ll take it from here. Go brief Santi and the lads, they’ll be climbing the walls with worry.”

“Ok,” Emilio nodded, noting the Marc’s eyes were firmly on the lift door, one step at a time the only thing he was capable of, “Order room service for dinner if you want.”

Smiling, slightly amused at the way Emilio felt like he needed to give them, two wealthy young men who technically employed him, permission, Alex nodded as the lift pinged to signal its arrival, “We will. I’ll call you if we need anything… Let’s go…”

*

Shrugging off his jacket, and kicking off his trainers, the journey to the room having been made in complete silence, Marc turned to his brother, his dark brown eyes glassy, his voice wobbly, “What the fuck just happened?”

“Vale saw an opportunity for revenge and took it…” Furious on his brother’s behalf Alex took a deep breath, knowing that when the dam broke it would be a long time before Marc was calm again, “He’s been waiting for this chance for a long time…”

Totally bewildered by the words that he’d heard, knowing that Vale disliked him and knowing that Vale hated him two very different things, Marc stomach hurt as it lurched, one tear escaping the corner of his eye, “I didn’t mean to take him out. I didn’t mean it.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t mean it. I was hard, and the front just went, and it was hard, but I didn’t mean for him to crash,” His composure starting to fray rapidly, Marc allowed Alex to guide them to the bed, both perching on the edge as the tears began to fall, “How could he say that? How could he say that he’s scared of me? I _didn’t_ mean for him to crash…”

“I know…” Wrapping an arm around Marc’s shoulder, the inevitable deluge starting, Alex lifted his glassed onto his head to protect them, closing his eyes as tried to fight back the ball of rage in his belly aimed at a certain Italian that he knew would be trouble, “It’ll be ok.”

“How could he say that…” Giving in, his words coming out in a sob, Marc practically threw himself into Alex’s lap, all composure gone as heartbreak took over in the form of heaving sobs, “How could he say that? He loved me once, how could he say that?”

“He didn’t love, he used you,” Angry and bitter, Alex pressed a kiss into Marc’s hair, holding him while he cried, something he’d done several times because of Vale, but not for a while, “He took what he wanted and then when he couldn’t buy you a car to make you go away he turned nasty. Exactly what he did to Jorge. This isn’t you, this isn’t about today, or Sepang. This is about him.”

“I loved him… I thought he loved me.”

“I know,” Softening his voice, Marc genuinely heartbroken, Alex manoeuvred them around the bed until they were curled up together, Marc wrapped in his arms like something delicate that needed cocooning, “I know. I’m sorry. It’ll be ok…”

“They’ll hate me,” Speaking through a sob, his eyes red and bloodshot, Marc looked younger than his years as he looked up at Alex, “It’s all going to start again. The threats and the security and the people… God, the people who’ll come to Mama’s house…”

“Hey, hey,” Shushing his brother, Marc’s crying almost hysterical, Alex pulled him tighter, tucking Marc under his chin, “There’s more support for you this time. You did something stupid, but he’s taking it too far… And Mama will deal with any people that come, it’ll be ok. I promise you, it’ll be ok.”

*

“Sorry,” Marc wiped his eyes, sniffing as he pulled away from Alex’s damp t-shirt, still looking as lost and forlorn as he clearly felt, “Aren’t you going out with Guille and the boys?”

Alex laughed, pressing a kiss to Marc’s head, “Yeah, yeah, my brother is having the shittiest day ever and I’m going to leave him to go to a Buenos Aires nightclub with my crew…”

“Sorry…”

“Stop apologising,” Chuckling as Marc shuffled up the bed, resting his head on the pillow next to Alex’s, face-to-face like they’d done so many times as kids to have whispered conversations without being overheard by their Mama, Alex reached out to smooth Marc’s ruffled hair, “You know you’ll get through this, right?”

“I hope so…” Marc shook his head at Alex’s raised eyebrow, “It really hurts… I **know** that I fucked up today. I made a mistake, but this… He hates me, and he’s always going to hate me… I can never have an on-track battle with him without this shit erupting every time. This isn’t like Sepang, Alex, this is forever…”

“Sepang was forever, Marc,” Alex sighed softly, wrapping one arm around Marc’s back, feeling slightly guilty that his brother was so ill-prepared for the hatred, but knowing in his heart Marc had to see it before he could believe it, “Marc, he hated you for not helping him… And he hated you more for standing up to him…”

“He shook my hand…”

“Yeah,” Alex wiped a tear from Marc’s cheek, resting their foreheads together, his voice soft, as if softness could begin to take away the hurt, “He did that because Luis died, and he’d have looked like a prick if he didn’t. If he hadn’t shook your hand that weekend he’d have looked the bad guy in the media, and with the fans…”

“You don’t think he meant it?” Chewing on his lip, his forehead furrowed, Marc’s voice sounded hoarse because of the crying, his chest hurting as he thought it all through, the reality making tears fall again, “He didn’t mean it. All this time, all these months, it’s just been a lie… He’s been waiting… He’s been waiting to make me the bad guy again. It was just a lie.”

“I’m sorry,” Pulling Marc back into his chest, his t-shirt getting wetter by the second, Alex closed his eyes, fighting back tears himself as Marc cried, “I’m so sorry…”

*

“There must be something on…” Grabbing the remote control, movement not particularly easy with Marc laid on one of his arms, Alex pulled his glasses back into place as he flicked on the television, switching through the channels, before they both giggled, “Do you think Emilio knows eight of the twelve channels are porn?”

Marc laughed, the first genuinely amused sound Alex had heard from his brother since lunchtime, “Probably not. I bet Jordi does though.”

“Yeah, filthy fucker,” Alex chuckled in amusement, his eyes glancing right every now and again, relieved to see the tears had dried up, “Are you hungry?”

Shaking his head, Marc instinctively curled tighter to Alex, the thought of moving, even for room service, making him uncomfortable, “No.”

“I’m not going anywhere, don’t worry,” Kissing him softly, nothing more than a kiss between two people who loved each other Alex giggled, “At least _that_ won’t end up on fucking Instagram like Valencia.”

Snuggling into Alex’s chest, the familiar scent of his brother making him feel safe, Marc laughed, “You’d think we’d fucked on the finish straight with the reactions that got…”

“Can you imagine Emilio’s face at that?”

“Alex!” Marc leant up on his elbow, momentarily outraged, before he got a clear vision in his head of Emilio’s reaction, a cross between the “CALM!” everyone seen in the documentary and the ranting tirade he’d launched in private about Vale. Buckling with laughter Marc soon had tears on his cheeks again, this time for good reasons as they both laughed until they were clutching their bellies.

“Imagine Puig’s face…” Wiping tears from his eyes, Alex pulled his knees up, his stomach muscles painful from the strength of their laughter, “He’d be on the phone to Livio…”

“Come back! Come back!” Marc cackled, the pressure lifting from his shoulders as they shook with laughter, “What do you do when they fuck, Livio? This wasn’t in the handover?”

Alex snorted, loudly, that creasing them both up some more, “I bet Mike Webb doesn’t have a rule for that.”

“Sorry Yamaha, there is no penalties for fucking…” Marc laughed, before catching himself for a second, the mention of Yamaha making Vale’s face flash into his mind.

Kissing Marc again, Alex quirked his eyebrow, “Stop thinking about him. He’s not worth it… He never was.”

“Sorry,” Leaning in, Marc pressed their mouths together again, this time slightly different, both of them looking startled as he pulled away, “Sor…”

“Don’t say sorry,” Voice quiet, sounding slightly uncertain, Alex shook his head, “Don’t say sorry, if you say sorry it makes it something wrong…”

“It’s not wrong?”

“Didn’t feel wrong,” Alex admitted, biting his lip slightly as he did. Marc nodding and that making them both pause for a moment before they both leant in, noses bumping slightly as they kissed again, this time longer, warmer, Marc’s tongue brushing Alex’s lip tentatively, but pushing no further, just kissing some more until they were both breathless as they separated, “Should that feel wrong?”

“No,” Sounding more unconfident than he had in his entire career, Marc reached up with one hand, stroking Alex’s face softly, the tiniest hint of stubble feeling strange under his fingertips, “I don’t know that this is the wisest way to forget…”

“Since when did you do wise?” Closing his eyes, Marc’s fingertips stroking his cheekbone bringing a feeling of calmness to him, Alex let out a soft sigh as he leant in again, “Nothing will ever change anything between us…”

“Never…” Confident in that, Marc let it happen. He let Alex’s lips touch his, warm and slightly scratchy from Alex’s bad habit of biting them. He let his tongue wander tentatively, and he welcomed Alex’s when it did the same. He let them shift position, until Alex’s arms were around him, one of his brother’s hands snaking under his t-shirt to feel skin on skin, as he let his hands stroke Alex’s face and tangle in his hair, letting every ounce of stress and bad emotion from the day fade away.

*

“Are you sure about this?” Mouthing the words against the skin of Marc’s abdomen, both clad only in boxers after clothes flew around during a make-out session that left them both breathless, and hard, Alex looked up at Marc, “Marc?”

One hand in Alex’s hair, every inch of his skin burning with need, Marc nodded, “Please don’t stop.”

“You said Vale was a one off for you… With a guy I mean…” Pressing a gentle kiss to the skin, his hands clenched by Marc’s side, desperate to touch, but knowing that he had to be sure, that Marc had to be sure, Alex nudged his glasses back up his nose, “Marc?”

“I want this…”

“Ok,” Not arguing with that, Marc’s needy tone telling him a lot, Alex ignored the sensible part of his brain as he pulled down Marc’s boxers, his hard length springing free from the constriction of the cotton. Smirking as Marc wailed at the simple flick of his tongue over his tip, Alex put one hand one Marc’s stomach, holding him in place, the other moving to cup his balls as Alex hollowed his cheeks and sucked Marc in, enveloping him in a tight, warm wetness, the swears from Marc’s mouth bouncing around the room.

*

“Close… Close…” His toes curling as Alex’s head continued to bob, his tongue caressing Marc’s cock as his cheeks wrapped around him, Marc wailed as his balls lifted, his body on fire as Alex used one hand to stroke him over the edge, lifting his mouth from Marc just as Marc exploded everywhere, “Jesus…”

“Fucking hell…” Alex leant back on his heels, chuckling as he shook his head, his own cock rock hard in his pants, “Your aim is shit…”

“Sorry…” Breaking into hoots of laughed, Alex’s glasses splattered with cum, it dripping down onto his cheeks, Marc buckled at the ridiculousness of the day as he reached to haul Alex up the bed, “I’ll make it up to you.”


End file.
